Thursday, January 5, 2017

“Advent’s Fiery Preacher,” Matt. 3.1-12, Advent 2A Midweek series ‘16


1.                  Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Heavenly Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  The message from God’s Word in our 2nd Advent Midweek service is taken from Matthew 3:1-12 and it’s entitled, “Advent’s Fiery Preacher,” dear brothers and sisters in Christ.
2.                 December 6th may hold little meaning for many of us. It’s not a day that many Americans consider a special part of our Advent and Christmas celebrations. And yet, this time of year we commemorate a man whose remembrance would change the way Christmas is celebrated. December 6 is the day set aside in the Church to remember Nicholas, Bishop of Myra. One of the best-known stories from the life of Nicholas takes place long before he became a Bishop of the Church. Historians tell us that Nicholas was orphaned as a small child, but his parents had left him heir to a modest fortune. While still a young man, Nicholas learned that a certain family in his village had grown so poor that the father of the house was at the point of selling his daughters into the worst form of slavery. And so late at night, Nicholas crept to the house and dropped three bags of gold through the window—left to be discovered by the family in the morning.  This begins the tale of a midnight bringer of gifts, laden with heavy sacks and a heart breaking with generosity.
3.                 But the Nicholas we often see visiting the children of Europe at Christmastime, the man clothed in the fine robes of a wealthy churchman, is no doubt a far cry from the ancient bishop of Myra. In Benjamin Brittin’s cantata “St. Nicholas,” Eric Crozier reminds us of this simple man.  The Nicholas who walked the streets at night on errands of charity, who turned the parish hall into a clinic during a plague, who refused to eat during a time of famine until all had food, who was thrown into jail for protesting the injustices suffered by his people, this Nicholas certainly didn’t spend his time in silks and cloth woven of gold and silver, in fine fur. He would no doubt be shocked to see the way people “dress him up” in order to decorate their Christmases today.
4.                 If it takes a little work to fit into our Advent the man of the day for December 6th, it takes a lot of work to fit in the man of the day in our text: John the Baptist. Matthew 3 tells us,  In those days John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness of Judea, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ For this is he who was spoken of by the prophet Isaiah when he said, ‘The voice of one crying in the wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord; make his paths straight ” (vv 1–3).
5.                 It takes a lot of cleaning and dressing up to fit this man of the wilderness into our holiday gatherings. Everything about him—from his camel fur and leather clothing to his diet of bugs, from his lack of political sense to his offensive preaching—everything about John stands in opposition to the mood we seek to create for our “holiday season.” Like an uninvited guest at the Christmas open house, John barges in, throwing both hosts and guests into dismay. John the Baptist and the “Christmas spirit” just don’t mix.  You brood of vipers!” John cries out to the highly respected religious people of his time. Do you realize what he’s saying? He’s saying, “Your mother was a snake!” He’s telling them they’re all children not of Abraham but of that old serpent, Satan. How’s that for a “Season’s Greetings!” and a “Happy Holidays!”? There was no sentimentality here.  John’s preaching of the Kingdom and his Baptism for repentance weren’t to be trifled with. This wasn’t for those interested only in religious duty. In fact, for all who thought that repentance was easy work, John had sobering news.
6.                 Luther summed up John’s message well when, in the Smalcald Articles, he identified John as the fiery messenger of the Apocalypse who announces the time for the fulfillment of the mystery of God. Luther writes:  But here comes the fiery angel of St. John [Revelation 10], the true preacher of repentance. With one bolt of lightning, he hurls together both those selling and those buying works. He says: “Repent!” [Matthew 3:2].  Now one group imagines, “Why, we have repented!” The other says, “We need no repentance.”  John says, “Repent, both of you. You false penitents and false saints, both of you need the forgiveness of sins. Neither of you know what sin really is. Much less your duty to repent of it and shun it. For no one of you is good. You are full of unbelief, stupidity, and ignorance of God and God’s will. But He is present here, of whose ‘fullness we have all received, grace upon grace’” [John 1:16]. Without Him, no one can be righteous before God. Therefore, if you want to repent, repent rightly. Your works of penance will accomplish nothing. As for you hypocrites, who do not need repentance, you serpents’ brood, who has assured you that you will escape the wrath to come and other judgments?” [Matthew 3:7; Luke 3:7]. (SA III III 30–32)
7.                 “Now there’s a fiery preacher for you! If only we had preachers like that today!” we’re tempted to think. “He could put the fear of God into you, and I bet he’d get results! If we’d get back to that kind of preaching—then we’d have some spark in this church.”  But, for all of John’s preaching power, for all his bold claims and stinging criticisms, he’s not the fiery preacher of today’s text. Nothing could be more wrong. In fact, it’s John himself who warns us against making that mistake: “I come with water only and a message to repent, but he comes with the Spirit and with fire!”
8.                 Nicholas the bishop, Isaiah the prophet, John the Baptist—they’re just little lights on the Advent wreath, shining in our dark nights to call us to hope and readiness. They fade when the true light who enlightens every person, the dayspring from on high, the sun of righteousness, appears. They can’t help but decrease as Jesus increases, though their work isn’t finished until they’ve pointed us to him.
9.                 But why do they have to point us to this Jesus? Matthew 3:12 says, “His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into the barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire” (v 12). Why in Advent do they have to point us to such a fiery Jesus? I think it’s one of the greatest ironies of our Christmas celebration that at the one time of year when the malls will pipe in songs about Jesus, the gentle, innocent baby, at the one time of year when the world will acknowledge at least a smidgen of joy at the coming of the Child, we, the Church, proclaim a Jesus with a pitchfork ready to put the world through a Baptism of fire. And the sad side of this irony is that many in the Church are ready to side with the malls.
10.             Jesus knew what the world needed, and he knows what we still need today. Not just good memories to make us feel good about one another. Not just warnings that we’d better watch out and better not cry, warnings to be nice and not naughty. The world needed God’s righteous judgment and new life, life that could come only from the Holy Spirit. The world needed a Savior, one who would take our sins into himself, would die so that we could die in him, be buried with him, and in him pass through God’s judgment  and be raised to newness of life. That’s what it means for Jesus to baptize with fire: it means that all of us who’ve been baptized into Christ have already passed through the fire; we’ve been judged, purified, made clean and new. When this preacher says to us, “My child, your sins are forgiven,” his words are final. No John or Isaiah could speak with that kind of authority. His words were final and his words were fire, words that leave our hearts burning.
11.             It’s true, Advent calls us to repent: in Isaiah’s visions, in Nicholas’s challenge to charity and justice, in John’s cries to make our crooked lives straight. But that’s not to say that Advent is telling us each year that our Baptism and our Jesus have lost their power. Advent isn’t telling us that having once celebrated our Jesus we now need to return to the Law to be saved. Advent calls us to prepare for the Jesus who will come by learning again the Jesus who has come, Jesus the child of the Virgin, and the Jesus who comes to us now in Word and water and bread and wine. Advent calls us to return to our Baptism and live in that Baptism. Advent calls us not to try to clothe ourselves in our own righteousness but to put on Jesus and live in him.
12.             Advent is no season of gloom, nor is there nearly as much doom in Advent as some would have us believe. Compared with the world’s “happy holidays” of artificial cheer and baseless hope, Advent is a season of genuine joy. Restrained joy to be sure, as is always the case in the preparation for the arrival of one we love so dearly. If we’re consumed by Advent’s work of preparation, it’s because of our passion for this fiery guest. Our work of Advent preparation is no chore, it’s the very work that gives our lives purpose. We’ve seen the Lord. With Jesus, we’ve walked and died and risen again.  Jesus, the Fiery Preacher of Advent, Has Seen Us through the Judgment and Set Us on Fire with His Love.  In his love, we now work to make ready our hearts, our homes, our world for his coming. And on our lips is the prayer, “Stir up your power, O Lord, and come.” Amen.



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